Poker With the Herbalist
by Seregwen Morthil
Summary: A scene which never happened in Eragon and never should have. Everybody's favorite witch and herbalist decides to have a poker party. Warning: includes haggis.


Authoress' Note: Hello, my dear readers, (if there are any) I am back! After a terrible time in which my mother forbade me to write, publish, review, read, or do anything with I have been freed. I now repost this for your eyes. I was so happy when so many people reviewed; it killed me to delete it. However, here it is…

Disclaimer: I own this fic. But,I own no one who's **in**this ficexcept Madame Zimoni, and you can have her if you'll put up with her cooking.

Poker with the Herbalist

_Eragon, Angela, Solembum in cat form, Jeod and Brom are playing Poker in Angela's basement; everyone has a tankard of ale and a pile of poker chips in front of them and a cigar in their mouth, the quality of which is dubious. _

Brom: Pair of kings, ace high.

Eragon: Three tens, king high.

Jeod: Two pair, aces and twos.

Angela: That's not possible!

Solembum: What's not possible?

Angela: I have full house, three aces, two queens. You can't have ace high, and _you _can't have a pair! It's impossible.

Solembum: One, stop shouting. Two, it is possible, because, three, you cheat. I've seen you cheat every Friday when you play cards with Madame Zeroni.

_Enter Madame Zeroni_

Madame Zeroni: But if you do not come back for Madame Zeroni, you and all your descendants will be cursed for aaaaaaall eteeeerrrrrniteeeeeeee.

_Exit Madame Zeroni_

Solembum: Not Zeroni, I meant Zimoni, Madame Zimoni, you know, that crazy half Italian witch.

_Enter Madame Zimoni; she does not have a cigar_

Madame Zimoni: Helloooo, and how is everybody to day? I am just great. No, I'm more than great; I'm more than super, but less than fantastic… I'm… Oh, darn it, what am I?

Eragon: Crazy?

Jeod: It's not certifiable, but probably.

Madame Zimoni: _Marvelous! _That's what I am, I'm _marvelous! _Ask me why.

Eragon: Why?

Madame Zimoni: Well, I'm marvelous because-

Eragon: No, I mean why should I ask you?

Brom: Eragon, don't tease her.

Eragon: Why not?

Solembum: She takes things seriously.

Angela: She doesn't have a good sense of humor. Any teasing will cause her to either turn you into a toad or burst into tears.

Eragon: I thought you were trying to prove there is no such thing as a toad. You said all toads are frogs.

Angela: Yes, but I haven't proved it _yet_, and until I do, she will turn you into a toad, not a frog.

Brom: Eragon, you're being a nuisance; just shut up and ask her why she's marvelous.

Eragon: Alright, Madame, why are you marvelous?

Madame Zimoni: Well, because I just bought a bag of dragon knuckles at a phenomenal price!

Brom: Really? But they're really rare! How did you get some?

Madame Zimoni: Well, actually it was all quite mysterious. I bought them off this strange pale boy who had dark hair.

Eragon: Not Harry Potter again! Did he have glasses?

Madame Zimoni: What?

Brom: Never mind him, he's weird.

Jeod: Pray continue, Madame.

Madame Zimoni: Well, he didn't have glasses, but he did have some holly twined in his hair.

Angela: Hmm, holly…

Solembum (hastily): Hush, Angela, she's telling a story.

Madame Zimoni: And all he wanted for payment was twenty pounds copper! They're worth twice that in gold! He also said to drop off the money outside of my front door and he'd leave the bag. Isn't that amazing?

Angela: Very amazing…

Solembum: Can I get anyone a drink? I'm going upstairs anyway, so…

Angela: Solembum?

Solembum: Yes?

Angela: Did you sell my dragon knuckles for twenty pounds copper to Madame Zimoni?

Solembum: Well, you see, I actually didn't, sort of, because, well, I'm a cat now, right? So if I was this mysterious boy, which is highly doubtful, I wouldn't have sold your dragon knuckles, you know, because I am a cat now, you see, and so it would have been myself, of course, but it wouldn't have been _me_, in a way, and so–

Angela: Solembum?

Solembum: Yes?

Angela: Shut up.

Eragon: Hey, wait a minute, I just noticed something!

Brom: Oh no, I don't have spinach in my teeth, do I?

Jeod: We don't have spinach.

Eragon: That's awesome! I hate spinach!

Jeod: Well, now you don't have to eat it.

Brom: You were saying, Eragon?

Eragon: I was saying? Oh yes… What was I saying?

Angela: You were saying you just noticed something.

Solembum: And I was thinking how it was incredible that you noticed something.

Eragon: Why should it be incredible?

Solembum: You have both your legs in one pant leg of your khak…

Eragon: Don't say it! You're not supposed to say what I'm wearing!

Solembum: Sorry.

Eragon: Anyway, I noticed that Madame Zimoni does NOT have a cigar! That means she either gets one, gets kicked out, or gives me something to eat!

_Enter the Marx Brothers: Harpo, Chico, and Groucho, with his trademark cigar_

Groucho: Well, here we are, fellows. There doesn't seem to be anyone in distress, so I think we'd better grab the beer and run.

Eragon: It's not beer; it's ale.

Groucho: Hey, kid, you've got both legs in the same pant leg of your khak…

Eragon: DON'T SAY IT! NEVER say what I'm wearing, OKAY? Sheesh.

Groucho: Well, you don't have to blow a fuse.

Chico: Is you-a sure that-a there's nobody in-a da distress-a here? Look's-a like a good-a place for-a distress, if you ask-a me.

Madame Zimoni: I'm in distress!

_Enter Salesman_

Salesman: And you, too, can be in distress for only six monthly payments of $9.99! Yes, that's right folks, only six easy payments of $9.99 each! And, if you call within the next five minutes, you'll receive free shipping and handling on your package of distress! Absolutely free! Added to this fantastic offer, you'll also receive a free juicer! Yessirree, folks, it's your lucky day!

Angela: Excuse me?

Salesman: Oops, wrong studio. Toodles!

_Exit Salesman_

Eragon: Okay, that was weird.

Madame Zimoni: I said, I'm in distress!

Chico: Oh, bella, bella donna! You-a sure are pretty, miss. Is you the one in-a da distress?

Madame Zimoni: Yes, actually.

Chico: Well, you-a lucky, I'm here to help you. What'sa da sort of your distress?

Groucho: I can answer that, it's a blue Ford Anglia, year, 1989, license plate, one-oh-five-queue-are-seven.

_Enter a flying blue Ford Anglia; it swoops over everyone's head and leaves_

Groucho: No, that wasn't it.

Chico: You hush, she's-a trying to relate her distress.

Groucho: Well, hers isn't related to mine, in any case.

_Enter three red-headed boys_

First boy: Hey, did you happen to see a flying blue Ford Anglia?

Groucho: I knew that wasn't mine. I always keep mine on the ground.

Jeod: That way.

_Exit three red-headed boys _

Madame Zimoni: Well, you see, I need a cigar, because if I don't have one, they'll kick me out.

_Harpo whistles, then steals Groucho's cigar out of his mouth and is about to give it Madame Zimoni when Chico hits him and takes the cigar. _

Chico: Are you crazy? Don't-a give that to her, she's a lady!

_Chico turns around and presents the cigar to Madame Zimoni with a flourish._

Chico: Lady, I present to you this-a cigar, so that it may stop your-a distress and-a let you in-a the card game.

_Chico is about to give the cigar to Madame Zimoni when Groucho hits him and takes the cigar._

Groucho: Here, you, that's mine. Are these two clowns bothering you, madam?

Madame Zimoni: No, of course they're not.

Groucho: That's too bad, 'cause they're annoying the heck out of me.

Madame Zimoni: Oh, that's all right, Chico, I'll just make Eragon a salami and then I'll gain admittance to the card game.

Eragon: Oooh, salami?

Solembum: Don't let the name fool you; it's not really salami.

Eragon: Well then, what is it?

Angela: Haggis.

Brom: Really?

Angela: Yep. She's half Scottish, half Italian, so the Scottish half makes haggis and the Italian half calls it salami.

Eragon: What _is_ haggis?

Angela: It's the heart, liver, lungs, and small intestines of a cow, chopped fine with oatmeal, suet, pepper, salt and onions. Then, it's put in the stomach of the cow and boiled.

Groucho: I bet you're sorry you asked.

Jeod: But-

Brom: Lemmee guess; you don't have cows, right?

Angela: Everybody has cows.

Jeod: Isn't suet fat?

Groucho: I don't know; when I knew her, she was pretty skinny.

Angela: Anyway, you have to have had serious gastronomical exposure before you can eat haggis.

Chico: I don't-a know if I could-a eat-a haggis if-a there was-a the astronomical essplosion. I think that-a might-a upaset my stomach.

Eragon: I think I'm gonna be sick.

Jeod: Why?

Solembum: I didn't piddle in the drinks, I swear. Honest, Angela, I didn't!

Eragon: It's that haggis stuff. It just sounds so _sick. _

Madame Zimoni: I beg your pardon! That's an old family recipe, and I'd appreciate it if you kept your uncouth opinions to yourself!

Groucho: He can keep his opinions to himself, but I don't think he can keep his lunch to himself.

Solembum: I bet it's the cigar.

Angela: Hey, these are good cigars! They're Cuban!

Jeod: We don't have Cuba.

Eragon: I think I need to go outside.

Brom: Why, you don't like the… _haggis_?

Eragon: Uuuhhhh…

Brom: Haggis! Slimy mounds of rotten calves' innards, bloody chunks of meat, reeking onions, the flabby casing of a stomach, plunged into boiling water…

Eragon: Shuddup! Shuddup shuddup shuddup shuddup ohhh shoot I need to go outside…

Brom: Slimy gimpy flabby squishy squelchy reeking smelly stinking slippery maggoty wormy haggis!

Madame Zimoni: Oh my goodness, he's actually going to be sick. That's quite revolting.

Angela: Ya think? Solembum, I just replaced these carpets, take him outside so he can hurl in peace.

Eragon: Ohhhhhh…

Solembum: Come on, kid, follow me.

Brom: Haggis!

Eragon: Shut the #& up!

_Exit Eragon and Solembum_

Brom: Ha, ha, that's one of the funniest things I've ever seen. Ha, ha, ha!

Jeod: Why did you want the cat to take him out? He can't do anything to keep him up.

Angela: Exactly. When Eragon falls, he'll land on Solembum.

Jeod: But… but isn't Solembum your were-cat? Why would you want him to be squished?

Angela: He wouldn't be squished; he'd just be temporarily uncomfortable.

Jeod: Okay, so why would you want him to be temporarily uncomfortable? Are you still mad about the dragon knuckles?

Angela: Nooo…

Jeod: Then why?

Angela: He piddled in my drink.

So, what's the verdict? Guilty of lameness? Innocent of hilarity? Or guilty of much humor and good stuff like that? Please, please review...

you know I love you! (in a non-prison type of way...)

-Seri


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